


Mirror Me

by Amithist



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Body Swap, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amithist/pseuds/Amithist
Summary: Liam and Sam switch bodies for the day.Liam has a lot of fun.





	Mirror Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the kink meme. Thanks for the prompt!

Liam’s not known to be awfully observant first thing in the morning.

He slips out of his lonely bed—the rest of his family back visiting his in-laws—and pads to the bathroom without opening his eyes. Stumbling through his morning routine, ignoring the constant ringing of his phone that he’s too tired to answer right now, it’s only when he blinks his eyes a little wider at the mirror whilst he’s brushing his teeth that he sees the much darker hair on his head and freezes.

He runs for his phone.

 

***

 

Taliesin keeps trying to explain it, but the more he goes through it, the less sense it seems to be making.

“Why do you have some voodoo shit that has that power? And why would you leave it out on your mantle at a party for someone to pick up?”

It’s a surreal experience listening to Sam talk; he’s seeing his own lips move, and it doesn’t sound like Sam either. The placement and the accent are all Sam, but he’s borrowing Liam’s vocal cords and it sticks like he’s trying to do a poor impression.

“Well, that should teach you not to snoop through other people’s things then,” Tal smiles. “I apologise actually,” sincerity and a little shame coming in. “I, ah, thought that I had hidden that away before last night, and I’m kinda freaking out that someone found that. This could have gone so much worse.”

“Worse?” Liam says. The different vocal timbre is throwing him off.

“Yeah, at least it’s you two. Two people who hadn’t met before last night could have picked it up, and that would be a lot more awkward. You’re practically married anyway. It’s only 24 hours.”

Loathe as Liam is to admit it, Taliesin has a point.

Sam smirks, and it’s uncanny to see Sam’s big grin across his own features. “So what you’re trying to say is that it’s arguable whether we’re more inside each other than usual.”

Trust Sam to see the funny side.

 

***

 

They elect to spend the rest of the day together. Taliesin assured it wasn’t necessary and the hex would right itself regardless of where they were, but the thought of someone else seeing either of them would cause too much confusion and chaos.

They pick Sam’s house as the place to hide out; after all, he has the superior wine collection for them to share chuckle over this whole debacle once the shock dissolves.

“Liam, your alcohol tolerance is shit. This is only two glasses in and tipsy—are you like 15?”

He snorts, “Don’t deflect from the fact you’re learning you’re a blatant alcoholic.”

“I think being such a smaller man is making me weaker.”

“I’M 5’ 11’’,” Liam catches his voice slip into a much higher tone that it ordinarily would when he’s defensive—the mix of Sam’s speech slipping in. “I’m only two inches shorter than you—in no way is that small.”

“I wasn’t referring to your height, I was definitely referring to your wiener.”

They both howl then. Their entire situation is ridiculous.

“In all fairness, Sam, you’ve seen my wiener plenty before today—you know that I’m at least 7 inches soft.”

Sam snorts, “It’s true, we’re very similar in that department. But now I get to see you hard.” The eyebrow wiggle expression that follows would be hilarious, but seeing it on his own face is odd.

Liam chuckles again, but his shoulders rise with a sudden wave of self-consciousness. “Have you— Have you actually seen me hard like this?”

“No,” Sam reassures. “Though honestly, I’m kinda kicking myself about it. I woke up hard this morning and didn’t pay attention or do anything with it. I could have seen O’Brien morning wood right there and it wouldn’t have even been my fault!” Liam titters before Sam continues further. “Does that bother you—me seeing you when we’re all?” He gestures dramatically between the two of them.

“No, yes, a little, I suppose? Aside from when I was going to the bathroom, I hadn’t thought about it a bunch. I don’t even know what the protocol is here? You  _ literally _ have my dick right now—I guess it’s fine if you do stuff with it?” Liam places his hands in his head and reflects on how weird this entire situation is.

“Well, I don’t care. I’m not in that body, so do with it what you will provided there are no photos, and no permanent marks or damage are left. And that’s mostly because my wife will kill me and/or you.”

“You don’t care? At all? About how I can potentially interfere with little Sammy?”

“Naah, he’s fair game. I’m not in there.”

“This says worrying things to me about what you’re okay with people doing to your corpse.”

 

***

 

In the early hours, they conclude that it’s not worth it to wait up all night to see the switch back, so they take themselves to bed. They’ve both taken different guest bedrooms in Sam’s large home. Liam understands why—even though it’s him in there, he would feel weird sleeping in his own marital bed inside Sam’s body. 

As he undresses in the guest bathroom, his eyes can’t help but take stock of the body in front of him. He’s seen Sam shirtless enough times that it shouldn’t be a sight that he lingers over, and yet…

It’s been thoroughly joked about over the years, but Liam has always had a certain level of physical attraction to Sam. To everyone else, it’s disregarded with how much they joke about it. But Liam’s been through the heartfelt confessions to his wife, it’s something he’s well aware of.

Liam has never questioned if Sam knew; of course, Sam could tell. He’s just polite enough not to put Liam on the spot.

But Sam isn’t here to be made uncomfortable now with his ogling, so he’d be silly to not use it to take a little peak as he pulls his shirt off.

Sam’s built much stronger. Broader shoulders, more definition to his pectorals, just a little bit wider.

Liam swallows as he notices the stirring of Sam’s cock between his legs. It appears that what turns Liam’s brain on, Sam’s body will respond to.

_ Was he joking earlier, _ Liam persistently asks himself.  _ He said it was okay? _

Liam bites the bullet and feels the length of Sam under his jeans. The sensation of his palm against Sam’s cock feels wonderful, but it pales to the visual of Sam reaching over his jeans to caress himself. Sam’s deep brown eyes are black with lust and lips parted and panting.

Liam moans and the sound leaves Sam’s throat. There’s no accent, no different placement so all Liam hears is the pleasant shock of Sam moaning, clear as day. Getting to hear Sam’s noises alone will be enough to sustain his masturbation sessions well into the next decade.

He reaches into his jeans and grasps Sam’s cock properly. Whilst the promise of observing what Sam’s been packing all of this time makes Liam excited, there’s something wonderfully teasing about the mirrored visual of Sam flushed red and stroking himself hidden beneath his clothing.

Eventually, Liam slides his jeans and underwear down Sam’s hips and Liam can see all of him. There’s a base part of his brain that he hates that goes to check if Sam is larger than him in the relevant department. To his relief, its size is similar, although Liam hates to admit it, Sam may be the tiniest bit bigger.

There’s another equally as mortifying part of his brain that likes that he’s smaller. There's a chance that maybe Sam’s doing the same thing right now with his body and he can see...

His hand returns to Sam’s cock as his grip gets tighter.

Liam twist to get a look from every angle; his lust lets him be unashamed. He grins when he gets a proper view of Sam’s ass, reaching behind to dig Sam’s nails ever so slightly into the soft flesh.

He can’t help but want to move his hands to Sam’s hole and hear how many other wonderful sounds he can get him to make. After all, Sam literally wrote and performed a song about wanting to get his ass fingered that he shared that with the entire internet. But Liam’s hands stop short, feeling the last twinge of ambivalence at the thought of touching Sam like this. He doesn’t know why this feels somehow more off limits, but he decides better of this.

He’ll have to settle for staring at the roundness of Sam’s ass and fantasising instead—not that it’s much of a disappointment.

There’s a lot that fascinates Liam with the mirror in front of him, but he’s also taken aback by how differently Sam’s body responds to the sensation. His short targeted strokes don’t feel as good against Sam’s cock; this body likes harder stokes, longer, nice and slow. Figuring it all out only fills in the picture of his fantasies—makes it seem that bit more real.

With a smile, Liam pinches Sam’s nipple and is rewarded with a needy whine. The fact that it’s his own whining is neither here nor there, because it sounds like Sam and he can observe it leaving Sam’s mouth, expression scrunched up in startled delight; that’s the most important thing. Sam’s more sensitive than he is, and the paler skin of his chest reddens quickly around the site.

Liam tries again, pinching more aggressively as he prefers himself, and startles himself in response. Overstimulation surges into painful, and he yelps, too loud for the calm room and maybe loud enough for Sam to catch him in the next room. He pauses for a moment, anticipating Sam’s weird hybrid voice ask him if he’s okay, but after a tense silence, Liam carries on.

He’s well aware that he must look like narcissism incarnate, fucking his fist as he watches the way the muscles of Sam’s arm clench and the thick head of his cock slide through the gap between his forefingers and thumb. However, this isn’t his body—this is rented, borrowed, stolen for a time, and he’s not ashamed of how badly he wants to watch it.

As he stares at the image, he gathers the slickness leaking out of Sam’s cock along his fingers. This may be another line that Liam’s about to cross, but he does it anyway, shutting his eyes like the shame won’t be there if he doesn’t see it happen. The taste is familiar—he’s done this to himself more times that he would care to admit—but there’s the hint of something different that tells him that this isn’t his own.

It all spring into his head at once—somewhere between a memory and a new fantasy: Liam on his knees with Sam’s firm grasp settled in his hair, guiding Liam’s lips over his cock. Liam can feel the flavour on the tip of Sam’s tongue, and the scent of Sam’s arousal around him. He’s even discovered the pretty soft sounds that Sam would make.

Liam pushes his eyes open to watch the moment of ecstasy on Sam’s face as he comes: hot and wet and sinful. It’s almost a shock as Liam stands open-mouthed staring at the mess he’s made of Sam in the mirror.

In a final shameful moment, Liam mimics the motion of before, guiding his hand over the mess on Sam’s stomach this time before sucking the fingers into his mouth.

Liam’s not sure how it’s possible, but he feels himself blush harder.

It’s only a quick cleanup before Liam’s asleep soundless on the bed.

 

***

 

Even after a late night before, Liam instinctively stirs at 5am anyway. It takes a moment for him to notice that he isn't in his own bed and that his head feels like shit from a little more red wine than usual, but he’s himself once more.

When they convene in Sam’s kitchen, he’s already making the two of them pancakes. It’s reassuring to see Sam as nature intended, and it makes Liam’s heart flutter.

“Ah, all back in the right body. Thank God—your back thing was killing me and I was so blind all the time.”

“You need glasses too, don’t give me that shit. I borrowed those eyes—”

Sam ignores him. “Yes, back to the right body mostly unmolested.” Liam nearly chokes on his fork, unable to hide his face for a second.

Sam raises an eyebrow. Liam forces himself to look Sam in the eye but there’s a subtle quirks of the lips of both of them, sizing each other up.

“I meant that as a joke… Did my body get some hot action last night that I wasn’t aware of then?” His voice is a tease, and it’s clear that there’s no malice there but there’s something else—curiosity?

“Nope.”

“I said I was fine with it. You even said you were fine with it.”

“Nope, you got no action—I’m sorry, buddy, you struck out.”

“That’s a shame,” he says with a put-upon sigh. “Anyway, how’s your ass feeling this morning?”

It turns out that snorting coffee out of your nose is an extremely unpleasant sensation to start the morning. But the way that Sam’s face lights up when he drops into hysterics of laughter more than makes up for the lingering scent of black coffee for the rest of the day.

He’s still not sure if Sam’s joking or not.


End file.
